With the veil of utter darkness cloaking the landscape in its enigmatic strangeness, I could feel the spasm of anxiety parading down my spine. There I was, alone, under the starry sky, in a remote village of tamil nadu, two hours past midnight—an unanticipated stop over!
The bus had come to a stand-still. And with the ration of comforting breeze withdrawn, I could feel the tropic heat intensifying within the confines of my oppressive berth. That overwhelming smell of sweat filling in; I had to get out.
In the darkness of the hour, with the sea only a mile away, I could only feel the freshness outside—the smell of sweat replaced with the fragrance of the wild breeze, the smudginess of the skin with the caress of cold air. Then I looked up at the sky!
The sky was adorned with starts multitudinous—the very constellation that use to greet my senses during childhood. As I grew up, so did the buildings; the street lights got brighter, the sight of the stars became a luxury. But it was so different here—different yet familiar. I felt like I had traveled back in time.